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folding newspaper strips into chain lace for our wedding. the way mom used to do with wrigley gum wrappers. bringing my fiancée to see my hometown which is all indoors like a giant mall. my mother is supportive but the community is not. they pass me around the school gymnasium on a chair made of green disk sleds, singing a prayer that will turn me over to god with their belief that our love is misguided. i tune into their ecstasy but not their words and jerk off under my coat while i’m passed around to keep me present in my body. when it’s over i stand up and walk away. still in the sled chair, a partial ghost image of myself like a screen left on too long. or a the faded reflection in a window.
their doubt almost had me.